“I mean, it’s fine. For the most part—although I do think I need a slightly smaller size, since I’ve lost a little weight, and I’m not looking as good in that department as I used to,” she said in a small voice.
A thought jumped into his mind again. One that this time he wasnotgoing to act on. The sudden desire to tell her that she was in no way defective in that department. At all. In fact, that department was perfect. More than perfect. Spectacular even.
“So, you would recommend it then?” he asked.
“Depends on who wants to wear it.”
He turned and looked at her again. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it depends on your shape and size, or what you want to get out of your bra.”
“Get out of it? Doesn’t a bra only do one thing?” He was intrigued now.
“Not at all. Some women need more lift than others. Some need less, or more support, some want a certain shape, some want underwire, some need them to look smaller, some want them to look bigger,” she concluded.
“Really?” His mind raced. Up until this moment he’d had no idea bras were such complicated things. His only experience of them had been taking them off. And when you’re doing that, you’re not exactly paying attention to all those nuances. When taking a bra off, one isn’t really thinking abouthowthey work, but rather about how quickly one can get what they contain into your hands or mouth or . . .
He cleared his throat and looked away. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks and he didn’t want her to see what he was thinking. Because he shouldn’t be thinking this! He knew that. Thoughts like these lead to dangerous places. A silence descended on them and he could feel she was waiting for him to speak again. His mind was racing. He started debating whether or not to do it? Should he ask her? How else was he meant to help Emmy?Shit!Right now, bloody Doris seemed like his best chance. And that didn’t exactly fill him with confidence. It’s not like she had the best track record when it came to following instructions or getting things right. But if not her, then who else?
“I . . . I need you to go bra shopping for me,” he suddenly blurted out.
“Oh.” She sounded confused. “I didn’t know you were, uh . . .” She stopped.
He turned and looked at her again. “Were what?”
“It’s totally okay if you are.” She smiled at him. “I mean, I had a friend who used to cross dress too—”
“NO!” He cut her off quickly. “It’s not for me. Well it is, but not personally. Indirectly for me . . . it’s for my niece.”
“Your niece?” She sounded shocked, as if the idea of him having a family, or a life outside of work, was hard to imagine.
He lowered his head and slumped his shoulders. “She’s thirteen. She lost her mother. She bunked off school and stole money from my wallet and went to the mall to try and buy a bra.”
“Oh no, shame.” She said it with such sincerity and empathy in her voice that he looked up at her. “I lost my mother too,” she said. “It’s really hard.”
“I didn’t know that,” he said quickly. “I’m . . . I’m sorry.”
“You learn to live with it, I guess.” She sounded so sad now, and his throat tightened. “So, tell me more about your niece and the bra situation?” she asked, turning in her seat. The movement tugged at the jacket and pulled it open even more, revealing what was inside it. He tried not to stare.
“Well, she’s too embarrassed to let me take her shopping for one. Her grandmother tried, but that just ended badly. I think she needs someone younger to—”
“Say no more. I would be more than happy to take her bra shopping.” She cut him off and then smiled so sweetly.
Something inside his chest seemed to respond directly to her smile. It was as if her lips were connected by invisible threads to something inside him, and when they moved, those threads tugged at his emotions.
He smiled back at her, as if his lips were also connected to her smile. “Maybe we should stop at your house first so you can . . .” His voice trailed off and he flicked his eyes around, trying not to look at her again.
“Oh. Yes. Get dressed.” She quickly folded her arms across her chest as if she had forgotten she was semi-naked.
He put the car into drive and soon they were back on the road.
“I am really sorry about what happened back there,” she suddenly said softly. “It was an accident, I swear. I really was trying to be careful.”
He shook his head and chuckled without even realizing it. “It was terribly unprofessional.”
“It was,” she conceded.
“But on the other hand, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mr. James at a loss for words before. It really shut him up, which I was grateful for. That man can talk.”
